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*** CHEETHAM ROAD PRIMARY SCHOOL - 9:35 AM *** |
|
| Cathy is standing up in front of the class giving a maths lesson. | |
| Mrs Anderson: | Now the square root of eighty-one is nine, you can remember that by looking at the eight and the one and adding them together so that they equal nine. This doesn't work for the other numbers but it's a handy way of remembering the square root of eighty-one... |
| Cathy drones on and on as the lesson continues. Polly feels her eyes falling closed and slowly lets her head drop down onto the table, resting on her arms. She dozes peacefully as the teacher carries on. | |
| Mrs Anderson: | Square roots are one of the most interesting branches of mathematics. Once you understand the principles of division and multiplication the square root is a logical form of progression... |
| Cathy stops when she notices Polly dozing lightly. | |
| Mrs Anderson: | It's nice to see you so attentive Polly! |
| Cathy taps Polly on the back with the blackboard pointer. Vicky quickly nudges Polly to help wake her up. Polly stirs with a slight gasp, sitting up straight and rubbing her eyes. | |
| Polly Page: | I'm sorry. I didn't mean to, but I was really tired. |
| Mrs Anderson: | I wouldn't mind you falling asleep in class if you still got decent grades at the end of it, Polly. But given your D minus last year that doesn't seem very likely! |
| Polly looks down blankly at the textbook in front of her. | |
| Polly Page: | I'm sorry. |
| Mrs Anderson: | Being sorry isn't an excuse. This is the third time this week that I have had to tell you off for sleeping in class. |
| Cathy glares down at the trembling small girl. | |
| Polly Page: | It won't happen again, I pwomise. |
| Polly glances over at Vicky for support. Vicky shrugs but they are helpless before the teacher's onslaught. | |
| Mrs Anderson: | I've heard it all before Polly. What's the square root of eighty-one? |
| Polly shrugs, looking away again. | |
| Mrs Anderson: | I'm waiting Polly. |
| Polly chews on her lower lip, looking back up at the teacher. | |
| Polly Page: | I dunno. |
| Mrs Anderson: | Why don't you know Polly? I mean someone clever enough to fall asleep in class and not have to listen should have some idea of what it is! |
| Polly looks angrily up at the teacher. | |
| Polly Page: | Look, I didn't mean to fall asleep in class and I don't know because I don't care! Happy? |
| Cathy smirks. | |
| Mrs Anderson: | That's obvious. You think you're too good to care about maths? Maybe if you were smart I'd agree with you but you're not! Come out the front! |
| Vicky objects. | |
| Vicky Hagen: | Miss, it's not Polly's fault! |
| Cathy glares at Vicky. | |
| Mrs Anderson: | You can come up too, Miss Hagen. Your maths marks could use a lot of improvement too! |
| Polly sighs and trudges pass the rows of desks towards the blackboard. Vicky reluctantly gets up and does the same. | |
| Mrs Anderson: | I want you to write out all the nine times tables up to nine times twenty, Miss Hagen, and I want Polly to answer them all in order. Then we'll see how clever you really are! |
| Vicky scrapes away on the blackboard for a few minutes until all the tables are up. | |
| Mrs Anderson: | Now Polly, nine times one is? |
| Polly looks around at the other children's faces, before turning back to the teacher. | |
| Polly Page: | Nine. |
| Mrs Anderson: | Nine times two is? |
| Cathy taps on the blackboard as Polly bites her bottom lip. Polly sighs, her voice very tired. | |
| Polly Page: | Eighteen. |
| Mrs Anderson: | Nine times three is? |
| Cathy is relentless. Polly counts quickly on her hands. | |
| Polly Page: | Firty-six. |
| Mrs Anderson: | Wrong Polly. Nine times three is twenty-seven. It seems you're not so clever after all. |
| Polly looks down at the floor silently. | |
| Mrs Anderson: | What have you got to say for yourself? |
| Polly Page: | Nuffink. What do you want me to say? |
| Cathy sighs. | |
| Mrs Anderson: | The right answer. For once. Are you ashamed of yourself, Polly? I would be. |
| Polly shrugs softly. | |
| Polly Page: | I don't care. |
| Mrs Anderson: | Well you should, miss! One day you'll grow up and become a woman and you need a good education behind you then. You're too lazy, you're a lazy hopeless failure! |
| Vicky is shocked but is unable to do anything to help Polly. She takes a slow breath, still with her head lowered. | |
| Mrs Anderson: | Well come on girl, at least say something in your defence! Prove to us all that you're not a complete waste of space. Why are you always tired in my classes? |
| Polly Page: | Because your class is always in the mornings. And I had a really late night last night. |
| Cathy sneers. | |
| Mrs Anderson: | Out with your friends, no doubt. I'm amazed that your parents don't show a bit more discipline towards you. I have a good mind to call them up and tell them about your shocking lack of self-discipline! |
| Vicky takes Polly's arm. | |
| Vicky Hagen: | Just stop it, miss. She's had enough. |
| Cathy claps her hands together. | |
| Mrs Anderson: | So have I. The only person in the class with worse marks than her is you, miss Hagen! |
| Vicky lowers her head. | |
| Mrs Anderson: | I'm going to give you a Saturday detention, Polly. You'll have to come back to school this Saturday and spend three hours doing times tables. |
| Polly looks up at her, horrified. | |
| Polly Page: | But, but you can't do that. I'll be in heaps of trouble. Couldn't I do them at lunchtime or something instead? Pwease? |
| Cathy shakes her head. | |
| Mrs Anderson: | This Saturday, from nine until twelve. That will teach you to fall asleep in class. And Miss Hagen can join you too! |
| Cathy is about to continue when the bell rings. | |
| Mrs Anderson: | Class dismissed. |
| Cathy walks back over to her table as the class shuffles out of the room. Polly looks over desperately at Vicky as they quickly head out of the room. | |
| Polly Page: | What am I gonna do now? Greg's gonna kill me! |
| Vicky and Polly walk down the corridor together. | |
| Vicky Hagen: | Any chance of him killing that bitch as well? |
| Polly Page: | I wish. There's no way I'm showing up though. Hopefully she'll just forget about it all. |
| Vicky grimaces. | |
| Vicky Hagen: | I hate her! I don't mind most of the teachers, especially the male ones, they can be quite nice! But she is an absolute bitch! |
| Polly shrugs. | |
| Polly Page: | I probably deserved it though. |
| Vicky Hagen: | What, because you fell asleep in class? I don't blame you! Her classes are as boring as hell. |
| Polly Page: | Tell me about it. |
| Polly and Vicky arrive at their recess spot under one of the larger trees. Vicky digs her lunchbox out of her bag and passes half of her sandwich to Polly. | |
| Vicky Hagen: | I'm not really hungry and you probably need it more than me. |
| Polly smiles gratefully, checking out the food. | |
| Polly Page: | Ham and cheese, heaps cool! Did you Mum make it? |
| Vicky Hagen: | Nah, she's never got the time. I always make my own lunch nowadays. |
| Polly Page: | Same, although the plastic wrap hates me. It gets all tangled up so I usually don't bother. |
| Vicky bites into her sandwich. | |
| Vicky Hagen: | Are you going to tell your stepdad about the detention? |
| Polly Page: | Uh-uh no way, he'd seriously kill me! Even more so than that old cow. |
| Vicky Hagen: | How are you going to get to school to do your detention? Or are you gonna skip it like I intend to? |
| Polly Page: | Skip it. I can't get out the house without Greg noticing, so there's no chance I could make it without telling him. |
| Vicky grins. | |
| Vicky Hagen: | We'll go out on a protest! Maybe they'll sack bitch Anderson if we make enough of a fuss? |
| Polly giggles. | |
| Polly Page: | Yeah maybe. Or I could just hang out at your house for the next ten years? |
| Vicky winces. | |
| Vicky Hagen: | Probably not a good idea considering what my Dad did last time I had someone sleep over. |
| Vicky falls silent. | |
| Polly Page: | What happened? |
| Vicky Hagen: | It's not important. I don't wanna talk about it. |
| Polly Page: | Aw, go on. Please. It couldn't have been that bad. |
| Vicky shakes her head. | |
| Vicky Hagen: | Forget about it, it's not your problem. I don't want you oozing sympathy all over me. |
| Polly shrugs. | |
| Polly Page: | Whatever. |
| Polly yawns again and nestles her head back in her arms. | |
| Vicky Hagen: | So why were you up so late last night? The stepfather again? |
| Polly shakes her head. | |
| Polly Page: | Nope, this other guy. Can't remember his name. |
| Vicky gives Polly a strange look. Polly yawns, her chin resting in her hands. | |
| Vicky Hagen: | You're doing it for other guys now? |
| Polly shrugs defensively. | |
| Polly Page: | So? It wasn't my idea. And anyway, I got Bella for it. And some of them are really nice. Like Charlie, he always brings me presents! |
| Vicky Hagen: | What did you have to do? |
| Vicky looks morbidly curious. Polly drops her voice, looking away. | |
| Polly Page: | Just stuff. Whatever he wants. |
| Vicky Hagen: | How old is he? |
| Polly Page: | I dunno, not something I'm about to ask him. But he's older then Greg I fink. He's nice though. |
| Vicky screws up her face in disgust. | |
| Vicky Hagen: | Yuck! That's gross Polly. Are they careful? |
| Polly Page: | How do ya mean? Some of em are rough, like this first guy, Beech, |
| Vicky Hagen: | No, I mean do they use rubbers? You can't be too careful, especially at this age. |
| Polly looks slightly confused. | |
| Polly Page: | What for? |
| Vicky Hagen: | If he doesn't use a rubber than you could get pregnant! |
| Polly looks momentarily horrified, finally hearing a word she understands. | |
| Polly Page: | What? |
| Vicky Hagen: | Well if you're not careful, you could end up with a little baby. Or at least, I know that I could. |
| Vicky winces and holds her stomach. Polly narrows her eyes. | |
| Polly Page: | What are you going on about? This isn't like you Vicks. |
| Vicky Hagen: | Well I was up most of last night bleeding so it's sort of on my mind round about now. |
| Polly drops her jaw, concerned. | |
| Polly Page: | Bleeding? What happened? Are you okay? |
| Vicky grins at Polly. | |
| Vicky Hagen: | I'm fine. I finally got my P-plates! |
| Polly Page: | Your what? |
| Polly yawns again, finishing off the sandwich. | |
| Vicky Hagen: | My P-plates. My period, dummy. They finally started last night. |
| Vicky smiles proudly. | |
| Vicky Hagen: | I'm a real woman now. |
| Polly looks rather put-off. | |
| Polly Page: | What's a period? |
| Vicky is stunned by Polly's naivety. | |
| Vicky Hagen: | You mean you don't know? |
| Polly shakes her head innocently. | |
| Polly Page: | Sounds bad though. |
| Vicky Hagen: | Not really, you just bleed once a month. I'm surprised that you haven't started yet! |
| Polly Page: | How do I know if I have or not? |
| Vicky Hagen: | Well you'll find yourself lying in a pool of blood one day! But it's probably better if you haven't considering what your stepdad makes you do... |
| Vicky trails off. Polly shrugs. | |
| Polly Page: | I dunno then. I mean now and then they hurt me and I bleed, but not like pools or nuffink. |
| Vicky Hagen: | No, this just happens naturally. It sort of flows. What it means is that your body is ready to have a baby. My Mum explained it all to me. |
| Polly Page: | Well then I'm glad I don't get it. Sounds really messy! |
| Vicky Hagen: | But you're not a woman until you get it! Until then you're still a little girl. I'm way more grown up than you are! |
| Polly rolls her eyes. | |
| Polly Page: | Well if you have to go through that to be a woman, then I don't ever wanna be one! |
| Polly crosses her arms with a huff. Vicky rolls her eyes and the two girls eat the rest of their morning tea in silence. | |
|
*** MATTHEWS RESIDENCE - 10:00 PM *** |
|
| Charles is shooting his load into Polly's body. | |
| Charles Brownlow: | Oh, you're the best! No other kid does it like you do! |
| Polly runs her fingers down his back slowly. | |
| Polly Page: | But you always say that! |
| Charles Brownlow: | That's 'cause I always enjoy you so much, princess! |
| Charles kisses Polly on the lips, his small beard rubbing against her chin. Polly giggles lightly. | |
| Polly Page: | That tickles Charlie! |
| Charles pulls his head back so that his beard is out of the way. His body remains tightly pressed against Polly despite the fact that he has finished. | |
| Charles Brownlow: | I thought you liked it when I tickled you? |
| Polly Page: | I do. |
| Polly smiles up at him, Charlie by far being her favourite. | |
| Charles Brownlow: | I have a little surprise for you, princess. |
| Polly raises what eyebrows, interested. | |
| Polly Page: | What? |
| Charles reaches across and rummages around in his jacket pocket. | |
| Charles Brownlow: | It's just a little something. I saw it and I thought of you. |
| Polly looks eagerly forward as he pulls out a little box. | |
| Charles Brownlow: | Tell me what you think of this. |
| Charles pulls a small jade bracelet out of the box and passes it to Polly. She gasps slightly, admiring the dark green colours. | |
| Polly Page: | It's lovely. |
| Charles Brownlow: | It's valuable so I want you to take extra care of it. I bet none of the other girls have anything like that, do they? |
| Polly shakes her head, still overawed as he slips it onto her wrist. | |
| Polly Page: | No way. |
| Charles Brownlow: | It's because you're so special. You're my special little princess. Be careful not to show anyone, though, or they might take it away from you. |
| Polly nods quickly. | |
| Polly Page: | Especially Greg. He'll be mad if he knows. |
| Charles Brownlow: | Do you have a little hiding place for really special things like this? |
| Polly Page: | I fink so. You want me to show you? |
| Charles nods carefully, zips himself up and looks at her expectantly. Polly quickly pulls on her clothes and quietly checks the corridor, realising that Greg and Ian must still be downstairs. | |
| Polly Page: | It's all clear. |
| Charles Brownlow: | Great. What else do you keep there? |
| Polly leads Charles through to her bedroom quickly. | |
| Polly Page: | Nothing much, just my diary. |
| Polly takes him over towards her dressing table, showing him the little jewellery box, with the false lid. Charles surveys the small room with a smile. | |
| Charles Brownlow: | Do you ever write about me in your diary? |
| Polly slips the bracelet into the back of the little box. | |
| Polly Page: | Not really. Usually only the really bad ones. Like Mr Beech and Carl. |
| Charles Brownlow: | That's a really neat hiding place you have there, Polly. Is it a secret from everyone? |
| Polly Page: | Yup, even me little brother doesn't know. And he's always going through my room. |
| Charles Brownlow: | Lovely. Can I ask you a question Polly? |
| Polly shrugs, turning around to face him. | |
| Polly Page: | What? |
| Charles Brownlow: | What would you like more than anything else in the world? |
| Polly considers the question for several moments. | |
| Polly Page: | You pwomise to keep it a secret? |
| Charles Brownlow: | I promise. |
| Polly Page: | I want Greg to go away. Just for it to be me and Ian and Mum. |
| Charles sighs. | |
| Charles Brownlow: | I wish I could do that for you, princess. I really do. But then you'd stop seeing me. |
| Polly sighs, turning back to her desk. | |
| Polly Page: | I knew you couldn't do that. |
| Charles Brownlow: | Is there anything else? Something that I can buy for you to make it easier? |
| Polly shrugs. | |
| Polly Page: | Greg got me Bella ages ago as a present for this. And you already got me those care bears. |
| Charles Brownlow: | Well is there anything else that you'd like? Something that would make you feel like the most special little girl in the world? |
| Polly thinks for a minute. | |
| Polly Page: | Well are you coming to the police thing at school next week? |
| Charles shakes his head slowly. | |
| Charles Brownlow: | Yes but if I see you I'll have to pretend that I don't know you. Is that okay? |
| Polly's face falls. | |
| Polly Page: | Okay. |
| Charles thinks carefully. | |
| Charles Brownlow: | Would you like to be involved with it? I can give you a part to play if you want. |
| Polly looks up interested. | |
| Polly Page: | Really? For real? In the actual reconstruction? With the other police officers? |
| Charles Brownlow: | Well we were going to ask for children from the school to volunteer but I can arrange it that we choose you. If you want to be involved, of course. |
| Polly Page: | Sure, that'd be cool! |
| Polly suddenly remembers the other surprise. | |
| Polly Page: | Oh and guess what! |
| Charles smiles, glad that Polly is happy again. | |
| Charles Brownlow: | What? |
| Polly grabs his hand and takes him back into her parents' room. | |
| Polly Page: | I got this last night! It's really cool. |
| Polly searches through the wardrobe, eventually pulling the little uniform out of the plastic bag. | |
| Polly Page: | See! |
| Charles is slightly surprised. | |
| Charles Brownlow: | Aren't you a bit young to have a police uniform? |
| Polly shakes her head with a smile. | |
| Polly Page: | It's only a pretend one. Carl gave it to me last night! |
| Charles Brownlow: | Who's Carl? Another one of Greg's friends? |
| Polly sighs, putting the uniform back in the closet. | |
| Polly Page: | I fink so, but he was really weird. Like he made me arrest him and stuff. And took photos. |
| Charles clears his throat. | |
| Charles Brownlow: | And he gave you this uniform to keep? |
| Polly nods slowly, sitting back down on the double bed. | |
| Charles Brownlow: | It's very cute. Maybe you can wear it next time I visit? You would make a great little WPC. |
| Polly Page: | Okay, if you want. |
| Polly yawns, looking thoroughly miserable. | |
| Charles Brownlow: | It would be nice. You obviously like the police, don't you Polly? |
| Polly Page: | Yeah, they're pretty cool. The reconstruction should be really good. |
| Charles Brownlow: | I'll make sure you get a part in it. I'm the boss of the police so I can do things like that. |
| Charles smoothly strokes Polly's cheek. | |
| Charles Brownlow: | I just want my little girl to smile and be happy. |
| Polly smiles softly at him, her heart not really in it. | |
| Charles Brownlow: | I have to go now, but I'll see you Wednesday next week as usual, okay? Look after yourself and I'll ring Greg and tell him what I want you to do at the reconstruction. He'll let you know. |
| Polly nods, hugging Charles tightly. | |
| Polly Page: | Fanks that'll be so cool! Vicky'll be so jealous! |
| Charles Brownlow: | I hope so. See you soon, princess. |
| Charlie tickles Polly's chin then walks out of the door, leaving her sitting glumly on the end of the bed. | |